The Horizon Has Been Defeated
by Brandywine421
Summary: Greg-centric fic--written to purge my imagination of what makes Greg tick...(rating for dirty language)
1. 1

I don't own anything or anyone related to CSI.

Greg Saunders turns away from his girlfriend, angrily.

"Please, baby, don't go…just call them and tell them you're sick, something…don't leave me today…"

"Lila, I have to go to work, I can't stay here just because you had a creepy dream about me…"

"Greg, you know I'm right! I can see it in your eyes, you know something's wrong!" Lila replies, starting to cry. Her French accent is thick through her tears.

Greg's face softens as he pulls on his jacket. He turns to her and embraces her in his arms. "Baby, I'm sorry you had a bad dream. But I have to go to work. It's important to me. I'll be home in the morning, okay? I'll wake you."

"No. You call me when you get there. I don't want you to go. You have to promise to call me…" She replies. Lila is gorgeous with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. She has been living with Greg for several months now, but their relationship runs hot and cold. "I don't trust that place since…"

"The explosion was an accident, Lila, and I'm okay now…" Greg says.

"Your beautiful skin…" Lila replies, caressing his scarred flesh from the lab explosion a few weeks earlier. She pulls his face to hers, kissing him deeply.

"Lila…I have to go…" He gasps, pulling away.

"Be careful, Greg…" Lila urges as he goes to the door.

"I'll call you, Lila…" He replies, leaving their apartment.

Greg is late as he parks at the CSI parking lot. He rushes inside and runs right into Warrick.

"You're late. Grissom's looking for you," Warrick smiles, steadying the thin man by placing his hands on his shoulders. 

"Damn…a case already?" Greg asks, flustered.

"Yeah. Go to the bathroom first, kid, there's…something on your face…" Warrick grins.

Greg frowns and takes a few steps down the hall to the bathroom. He scrubs his girlfriend's lipstick smears off his face and splashes cold water on his face to steady himself. He steps into the lab where a manila envelope bulging with ziploc wrapped packages is waiting for him on the desk.

Lila, a dancer in one of the few _respectable_ clubs in Las Vegas, had woken him up after only a few hours of sleep because of a disturbing dream. She had kept him awake crying out because of the terror she felt. She said it was about Greg's bloody death. 

He shakes off the thought and empties the envelope on the counter. Photos of the crime scene. Bloody. Two dead. Stabbed to death with a letter opener…

"Greg? Why the stricken face, you've seen worse scenes before," Grissom startles him out of his staring.

"Uh, who are the victims?" Greg asks, staring at the silver bloodstained letter opener enclosed in plastic.

"Unidentified. We're running the prints now…Greg?" Grissom asks, more concerned by the lab tech's demeanor.

"Who's on this case?" Greg asks.

"Warrick…"

"I need to go, I have to go…it's a…I'm sick…"

"Greg, do you know these people?" Grissom asks, seeing the man's panicked expression. 

"I need the night off. I shouldn't be anywhere near this evidence. I shouldn't…" Greg steps back from the table, stricken. Warrick and Catherine walk in, confused by Grissom's concerned expression and Greg's dazed look.

"What's up guys?"

"I'll call Vincent to cover for me…" Greg mutters, spinning around and rushing from the room.

"Greg!" Grissom catches up to the younger man in the parking lot.

"I have to go, Grissom. Fire me, punish me, whatever, but I have to go," Greg says flatly, his eyes colder than his boss has ever seen them.

"What's your connection to those people, Greg?" 

Greg hesitates but his face doesn't lose its stony expression. "You'll get your I.D. in a few minutes, Gris. I have to find out some things for myself. The police will be calling me in a few hours and I'll give them my statement then. Now, I have to go."

Grissom stares after Greg's car as Warrick and Catherine join him. "What's going on?"

"Greg knows those victims. He wouldn't tell me who they are but he knows them…"

"Hey, boss. We just got an I.D. on those vics," Nick announces, glancing at the trio standing in the parking lot.

"Names?"

"Harry and Joyce Saunders…" Nick announces.

"Saunders?" Warrick asks as Catherine gasps in surprise.

"Yeah, just tourists visiting from Seattle with their son and daughter-in-law…" Nick reads from the file.

"Who's the son?"

"Joseph Saunders married to Tina Saunders. Staying at the Lockridge Hotel," Nick replies.

"Any other children?"

"A son and a daughter…" Nick is quiet.

"Nick?" Catherine urges.

"Gregory Saunders and Elizabeth Saunders. Is this our Greg Saunders?"

"Yeah. Warrick, Cath and I will process the scene. I want you to track Greg down. Try the Lockridge where Joseph Saunders is staying," Grissom orders, steadying himself.

"Greg knows?" Nick asks.

"He found the evidence in the lab. He knew before we did, he didn't say they…he didn't say they were his parents."

Greg swings his car into the parking space and walks into the hotel. He didn't call Lila. He didn't call Grissom. He has to talk to his brother. 

"I was wondering when you'd get here. Room 317, little brother," A voice calls from the balcony.

Greg silences the screaming emotions inside him. He left his abusive parents' care when he was sixteen, finishing school and starting college while supporting himself. He never tried to reestablish contact with them but they would track him down every few years and harass him for money and for their own sadistic enjoyment. Greg's older brother, Joseph was a mirror image of their father, cruel and self-serving. Joe always told Greg that once he got the chance that he would kill his parents with their prize possession: the silver letter-opener that they stole from Ernest Hemingway's estate while on their honeymoon. As soon as Greg saw the silver weapon in it's protected plastic bag, he knew that Joseph had brought his parents to him. Greg ignores his beeping pager as he steps off the elevator onto the third floor. 

"News travels fast in this city. I just killed them a few hours ago," Joseph smiles as he holds the door open to his hotel room. Greg steps inside.

"What the hell…what's going on, Joey?" Greg gasps, paling as he sees his brother's wife's dead body lying on the bed with her head twisted gruesomely. He doesn't allow himself to react.

"I finally decided to live up to everyone's expectations. I decided to follow through on my threats. Mom and Dad had it coming, Greg, you know that…" Joe sighs, revealing a pistol and waving it as he talks. 

"Joey, no…"

"You could never understand, little bro, you weren't like us. Somehow, you were born with a soul…"

"Why did you do that to Tina, Joey? You loved Tina," Greg says, turning around to avoid looking at the broken body on the bed in front of him.

"I know. I love you, too, that's why I came here. I wanted Mom and Dad to see that they failed. They couldn't corrupt you because you were stronger than that. I wanted you to see that I could really do it. I did it for you. I eradicated their evil for you…" 

Greg realizes that the sparkle in his brother's eyes is insanity. His brother has finally lost his mind. 

"I knew you wouldn't be happy…" Joseph sighs as someone knocks on the door.

"Joey, you just killed our parents and your wife. Of course I'm not happy. What is going through your head right now, Joe? You're killing people. Murdering people. No, they aren't innocent people, but they were still people," Greg says, trying to keep his voice calm. 

"But I did it for you! So you could be free…" Joseph argues, slightly panicked as the knocking on the door becomes more anxious.

"I'm already free, Joe. I have been for years. Are you going to get that?" Greg asks, still calm, but shaking uncontrollably.

Joe points the gun at Greg. "_You_ get it. Get rid of them. Now."

Greg sighs tiredly, going to the door. He swings it open slightly, concealing the sight of Tina's body. 

"Greg? We need to talk to you and your brother," Warrick says, looking relieved as the door is answered.

"We can't really talk right now," Greg replies as Joe suddenly pushes the cold barrel of the pistol into the back of his neck behind the door.

"This is a police investigation, Greg…" Warrick replies, surprised at the younger man's response.

"I am very well aware of that, sir. I'm sure you will have our full cooperation at a later time. We are unable to talk to you right now. My brother is very upset about our parents' deaths and is in no condition to answer questions. Can we schedule a time?"

Warrick knows that something is terribly wrong as soon as Greg calls him 'sir'. He can't see into the room and Greg's face is expressionless. 

"Um…"

"Officer?" Greg asks, urging Warrick to speak with his eyes.

"How about later this evening. Will your brother be available then? Around nine?" Warrick replies.

"I'll ask him. Do you want to leave your card so I can get directions to the station?" Greg asks, a flash of fear sneaking onto his face as Joe nudges him with the pistol.

Warrick passes him a card and Greg quickly closes the door with a nod.

"How does he know your name, Greg? How do you know the police?" Joe asks, leveling the gun at his brother.

"I work at the crime lab. A lot of people know my name. They bring me fingerprints, blood samples, evidence of all kinds and I run tests on it," Greg replies, indifferently.

"Really? Is that how you found out…that's great," Joe smiles widely. "You found out about the folks when you saw the weapon, right? You must have flipped out!" He laughs.

"Joey, this isn't fucking funny. It's not a joke. You're…they're going to catch you," Greg says.

Joe shrugs. "I'm not planning on sticking around. This was my last hurrah, little bro, this is it. I did everything I wanted to do with my life, shit, Tina was even having our baby…"

Greg gasps in horror.

"So I got married, almost had kids, saw my little bro grow up into a good man and killed my good-for-nothing parents. I've had a full life."

"Grissom? It's Warrick. I found Greg…"

"Is he with Joseph, the brother?" Grissom asks.

"Yeah, but something's funny in there…"

"Joseph's the killer. His prints are all over the crime scene and the weapon. He's not even trying to cover up his crime…" Grissom replies. "The uniforms are on the way over to bring him in…"

"I'm telling you, Gris. Something's off in there. Greg called me 'sir', he wouldn't even acknowledge that he knew me. He took my card so he could call me when his brother was up to talking, and you know that he knows my number already…"

"You think his brother's threatening him?" Gris asks.

"I don't know, but I think that those cops need to wait. This seems like it could be a volatile situation and Greg is in danger."

"We're on the way. I'll tell the uniforms to hold off. Brass is with them." Grissom hangs up.

"Greg. Greg?" Joe is calling his name.

"What."

"I'm not going to apologize. They deserved to die," Joe says.

"It's not your decision. You're not God, you don't have the final say in whether people live or die," Greg replies, quietly.

"Yes, I do. At least I do in your case."

"You're going to kill me? Eradicate the family line?" Greg asks, calmly as his pager goes off again.

Joe stares at Greg's beckoning pager. "Who's paging you?"

Greg glances at the pager. It's Grissom's number. "My girlfriend. She's worried about me."

"You have a girlfriend? You love her?" Joe asks, surprised.

"I don't think that's any of your business, Joey. It hasn't been your business in a long time," Greg replies, flatly.

Joe sighs. He raises the gun and fires a single shot, the bullet knocking Greg against the wall with a crash.

Greg puts a hand to his damaged shoulder, stunned by the blood before the intense pain drops him to his knees. 

"You feel like talking now, Greg?"

"Fuck you, Joey. You don't even know me. You say you killed them for me, but you don't know me. You haven't known me for a long time. We aren't family, Joey. Not anymore," Greg responds, shaking off the paralyzing pain. He realizes that the sound of the gunshot will bring security running if not the police.

"We are family," Joey hisses, kneeling beside his fallen brother. "No matter how far you move, how much you deny us, you're still a Saunders through and through. You're cursed. You'll never escape the family curse."

"I am not like you. I am nothing like you," Greg replies, blinking as darkness reaches for him. There is fevered knocking on the door.

"It was good to see you, Greg. I'll see you again…" Joe says, glancing at the door as he presses the gun against Greg's temple.

"Joey. Don't." Greg says, simply, closing his eyes.

"Why not?"

"Just don't," Greg replies, quietly, shaking as blood from his shoulder starts to pool around him on the carpet.

"Damn, Greg…" Joey sighs as the door swings open to reveal several armed police officers.

"Freeze! Drop the gun and step away from him!" Brass yells, standing in front.

"You're damn lucky, kid…" Joey says, turning the gun around and firing quickly at himself. The shot deafens the sound of his blood and brains splattering on the wall.

Greg is frozen as the police flood into the room. Warrick and Brass rush to his side.

"Greg? Shit, you've been shot…" Warrick realizes.

"Are you okay? Greg?" Brass shakes the young man, gently when he doesn't respond. 

"What? Yeah, I'm fine. Can I use your phone?" He asks, his eyes glazed. Warrick yells for an ambulance as he hands Greg his cellular phone.

"'Allo?" Lila answers the phone.

"Hey, baby…" Greg says, weakening suddenly as he hears his girlfriend's voice.

"Greg? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine. Do you have to work later?" He asks, drowsily.

"No, I took the night off…"

"Good. You want to meet me at the hospital? We can ride home together," Greg says, making himself stay awake and not meeting Warrick or Brass' concerned gazes. 

"The hospital? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, baby, I promise. I just had a little accident. I'm okay," Greg lies. Lila promises that she's on the way and Greg passes the phone back to Warrick.

"Greg. I want you to look at me," Brass urges, forcing the man's head up to meet his eyes. "The ambulance is on the way. Did he hurt you anywhere else besides your shoulder?"

"No, just the one bullet. He didn't kill me," Greg says in disbelief. He drops his head again. "He was supposed to kill me…but he didn't…damn…"

"Greg?" Warrick calls as Grissom and Catherine flank the paramedics.

"I'm fine, Warrick. I swear. I'm just bleeding a little," Greg replies.

"What happened?" Catherine asks as Brass and Warrick haul Greg to his feet as the paramedics take over.

"We heard a shot and used the hotel master key to get in. Joseph shot himself as soon as we arrived, we…we couldn't stop him," Brass explains.

"Warrick, ride with Greg to the hospital…" Grissom starts.

"I'm fine, Grissom. I don't need a watcher," Greg replies, as the paramedics look at his shoulder wound and make him get on the stretcher.

"I know, Greg. Humor me," Grissom replies, flatly.

In the ambulance, Warrick watches Greg, concerned. Greg is emotionless as the medics tend to his wound.

"Can I call anyone for you, Greg?" Warrick asks.

"I already called my girlfriend. I don't have any family here," Greg replies, quietly, his eyes distant.

"Greg…"

"I don't need your pity, Warrick. I…my family history has always been stained with blood. We have a long history of psychopaths and sociopaths in my family. I guess…this was inevitable. I just…I can't believe Joey didn't kill me…"

"You want to talk about it?" Warrick offers.

"Not right now. I just want to go home," Greg replies, tiredly, his eyelids drooping.

"Yeah, I guess you earned the night off, Greggo…" Warrick notes.

"My girlfriend is going to be so pissed…" Greg sighs, sadly as unconsciousness takes him.


	2. 2

Grissom, Catherine and Brass all join Warrick in the emergency room waiting area. The bullet went cleanly through Greg's shoulder, narrowly missing bone. The doctors are bandaging the young man as his coworkers wait. Brass leaves to take Greg's statement.

Nick and Sara walk in, following the tall, lithe Lila. "How is he?" Nick asks Grissom.

"He's okay. Just a flesh wound, but still…" Grissom replies. The CSI's are officially off the case due to Greg's involvement.

"You guys are worthless," Sara remarks. Warrick, Nick and Grissom are all entranced by Lila's exotic beauty. She is leaning over the information desk, demanding information with a quiet voice.

"Look at her, though. Wow…" Nick replies, as Catherine slaps his arm. 

"Saunders, S-A-U-N-D-E-R-S!" Lila yells at the indifferent nurse.

"You think?" Warrick turns to Grissom with raised eyebrows.

Catherine ignores the men and approaches the frazzled women. "Excuse me. Who are you looking for?"

"My boyfriend, Greg Saunders, he called me…" Lila starts.

"We work with Greg, in the lab. He's okay…"

"What happened?" Lila demands, tears streaming down her face now that she knows for sure that her lover is here.

"I think we better let Greg explain it to you," Catherine replies. "We don't even know the whole story…"

"Did the lab explode again?" Lila asks.

"No. He was shot…" Catherine says, pulling the increasingly distraught woman into a corner. She explains the situation with as few details as possible.

"That's Greg's girlfriend? We have obviously not given the kid enough credit," Nick smiles. 

"You should read his file," Brass says, returning from his interview with Greg. "He's a survivor with a capital 'S'. He's on his way out, the doctor's just going over how to take care of the wound."

Lila has sat down in an empty chair, talking to herself in French. Catherine returns to the groups of worried CSI's. "Anybody speak French?"

Greg walks out, pale and looking exhausted. "French? Is Lila here?" Catherine hugs the man, impulsively and nods toward Lila.

"Lila?" Greg ignores his concerned coworkers, going to his girlfriend.

"Greg…" Lila cries, embracing him despite his arm being in a sling.

"Je suis si désolé. Je suis désolé, Lila…" Greg murmurs.

"Vous bâtard, vous m'avez promis que vous seriez bien! Vous m'avez promis que rien n'arriverait à vous!" Lila replies, pushing him away in anger. "Je vous ai dit de rester à la maison aujourd'hui! Je vous ai dit, Greg! Pourquoi me blessez-vous comme ceci? "

"Je suis désolé…" Greg repeats, quietly.

Lila's anger fades as she looks at Greg. "What happened? Baby?"

"Will you take me home?" He asks quietly, accepting her embrace again. 

"Oui, bébé…" Lila replies.

"Thanks for coming out, but I'm going home. Brass can fill you in on the gruesome details that are my life. I'll call you tomorrow, Grissom." Greg smiles at his worried coworkers, clinging to Lila's arm.

"You going to be okay, Greg?" Sara asks.

"Guys, this is Lila. Lila, these are the CSI's that I work with. I'll be fine, Sara. I'll be back at work before you can miss me…" Greg replies

"... ainsi ils peuvent éclater votre laboratoire encore..." Lila whispers to Greg. 

Grissom smiles as the others look on in confusion. Greg winks at him and exits with his girlfriend.

"Greg speaks French?" Catherine asks, awed.

"Apparently. Let's get back to work, he'll be fine," Grissom says, leading them out of the hospital toward their cars.

Lila meets the group in the parking lot. "Greg, he wants to know if someone can go get his car. It is at a hotel?" She looks behind her to where Greg is leaning on her BMW, smoking a cigarette.

"I know where it is," Warrick offers, accepting the keys.

"He is smoking. He quit smoking in high school. This is really bad?" She asks, looking to Catherine for reassurance.

"Savez-vous quelque chose au sujet de sa famille?" Grissom asks the woman.

"No. I know that he hasn't spoken to them in years. He moved away when he was sixteen. They are…evil?" She replies, quietly.

Nick and Warrick join Greg by the car.

"Where did you meet her?" Nick smiles, trying to distract the troubled, exhausted man. 

Greg inhales the cigarette smoke before responding. "She was new to the city and we were both drinking ourselves unconscious at the bar one night. I heard her yelling into her phone in French and I struck up a conversation."

"How do you know French anyway?" Warrick questions.

"I speak French, Italian, German and some Russian and Spanish. I was in Europe for over a year when I was working my way through college," Greg replies. 

"How long have you been together?" Nick asks.

"She moved in with me in January. We have an understanding."

"An understanding, Greg?" Nick questions, after a beat.

"She understands me. We understand each other. I should have listened to her."

"What?" 

Greg stubs out his cigarette with his shoe. "She begged me to stay home today. She was crying because she had a bad dream about me and she begged me to stay. I should have listened to her."

"Greg, what happened today was…" Nick begins, ignoring a warning glance from Warrick.

"No. Nick. You don't know anything about what happened today. You'll read the report but you will never understand what went down today," Greg states coldly.

"Greg." Lila is standing beside Warrick.

"I'll bring your car over after the shift, Greg. Heart Street, right?"

"286 Southern Boulevard. Just page me," Greg replies, his eyes glazed.

"Come on, baby," Lila urges, opening the door for him. He sits down in the passenger seat. She nods to his coworkers before climbing into the driver's seat and driving away.

"She's worried about him," Sara comments.

"I didn't even know where he lived," Warrick states, stunned.

Brass is looking through the manila folder as they stand in the parking lot of the hospital.

"So, Brass. What happened today? Greg lost his whole family today…" Nick starts.

"I don't think he's considered them family in a long time," Brass replies, quietly.

"What do you mean?" Catherine questions.

Brass leans against his car with a long sigh. "Greg has been on his own since he was sixteen. His parents, according to his medical file and police reports from Seattle, were not very loving people. He was hospitalized several times due to his parents and his older brother's abuse. When he was sixteen, he moved away and finished high school while living out of his car. He worked two jobs in high school and three jobs in college. He knows French from living in Europe where he was stranded after his tuition ran out while he was studying abroad."

Everyone waits patiently for the older man to continue.

"He's moved six times in the last four years and his parents have tracked him down every time. Joseph tracked him down this time and followed through on a threat that Greg remembers from their childhood. Joe used to tell him that he would kill their parents with their silver letter opener, a talisman for their parents when they were kids. When Greg saw that today, he knew that Joe was in town. Joe told him that he did it so Greg would be free of them. He said he did it for Greg. Greg didn't really appreciate the gesture as much as Joe had hoped."

"I don't really think that there's anything to say. Let's go home," Grissom says, after a long pause.

"Hey, Warrick. I want to go with you to Greg's. Even with Lila, I think he might need a friend right now," Sara offers, climbing into his car.

"You can follow me while I drop off his car."

Sara and Warrick get some breakfast before heading over to Greg's during the early dawn hours.

They are surprised to see that Greg lives in a very upscale apartment. Lila is standing on the sidewalk with Greg standing behind her on the grass. They are in a very heated discussion as the two CSI's pull into a parking spot.

"I can't do this if you won't talk to me! I thought we were over this! I thought we were together now!" Lila cries.

"We are, baby! I love you more than anything! What do you want me to say? Tell me what to do and I'll do it!" Greg responds, reaching for her with his good arm.

"I want you to not have to ask, Greg!" She screams, turning around to face him and batting his hand away. "I know you're hurting, I know you're all fucked up inside, but I can't take this!"

"Lila, this has nothing to do with you! Give me two days, and I'll be fine again! You can't give me two days to pull myself together?"

"Non. Il est fait. Il est fini," Lila says, spinning away from him and bolting down the street.

"Damn, he's having a bad day," Warrick comments.

"Stop staring and come in the house," Greg says, walking over to the cars where they are standing.

"Greg…"

"Don't 'Greg' me. It's not a good time. But you're here, so you can come in. Come on," Greg says, his voice empty of any emotion.

"You should be getting some rest, Greg…" Sara says.

"I know. I'm exhausted," He sighs, leading them into his well-furnished apartment. Nick notices the steaming pot of coffee and the bottle of whiskey standing beside it. "The painkillers and lack of sleep has really knocked me out. But I can't sleep. Now, Lila's pissed at me…"

"Why? What happened? I mean, at the hospital, she was frantic with worry…" Sara replies, trying to cover her nosy question.

"Same old bullshit. Coffee?" Greg pours himself a half-cup of coffee, filling it to the brim with whiskey.

"Are you sure you're okay, Greg? I thought you didn't drink…" Warrick questions, walking over to the counter and taking the cup from Greg's trembling hands. Warrick gently pushes Greg into a chair and then sets the cup of coffee in front of him.

"I don't drink. I stopped a long time ago. I started to regret that decision, though. I seem to have forgotten how rock bottom feels. Needed a little reminder," Greg sighs, drinking the coffee.

"Greg? What can we do for you?" Sara asks, quietly.

"Honestly?" Greg responds. "Nothing. I learned a long time ago that shit like this…no one can get me through it except myself." He is quiet. After a long pause, he speaks. "My sister, Elizabeth…she died when I was fifteen. Joey, the guy that shot me today, he ran over her with the family van. He said he didn't see her, but…" Greg's voice fades. "I know he saw her. After all these years…I know he saw her."

Warrick and Sara are silent, unsure of what to say.

"I knew then that there was nothing I could do about my family except leave. It was hard, but I had to do it. I drank, used drugs, battled my demons with all I had until I beat them. I made it out, on my own and I have a good life. I have a good life," He repeats.

"Greg?"

"I'll be okay, guys. I promise," Greg says.

"I don't believe you," Sara replies, quickly. 

"You don't have to. It doesn't make it any less true. I'll get through this," He says, quietly.


	3. 3

__

"…blood never forgets but who protects the memories from when we bleed each other from the vein…" 

--Third Eye Blind  


No one hears anything from Greg for the next three days. Sara, Nick and Warrick stop by his apartment, but no one is home when they make their visits. Greg's doctor notifies the CSI's that he can return to work a week after his accident, but Greg doesn't check in with any of them. 

Saturday morning, Grissom and Catherine are drinking coffee in the break room waiting for their shift to end. Nick and Sara join them, finished with their case for the weekend. 

"Anything from Greg, Gris?" Sara asks, as Grissom flips closed his cell phone.

"Nothing. His voicemail box is full," Grissom replies. His phone rings before he can clip it back to his belt. 

"Who is this?" A voice asks as Grissom answers the phone.

"Grissom. Who's this?"

"You work with Greg? This is Lila. I couldn't get to the phone in time so I star-69'd you. Have you seen him?"

"Lila, when's the last time you saw Greg?" Grissom counters, concerned.

"We had a fight after he left the hospital. He was gone when I got back, a few days ago. I haven't seen him. I tried filing a missing person's report…" Lila begins.

"You're that worried?" Grissom asks.

Lila sighs, obviously upset. "He was drinking and I've never seen him drink…that's why we fought, he wouldn't talk to me and I… I don't think he should be drinking when he's this upset."

"Okay, Lila. I'm sure he's fine…" Grissom lies, glancing at Catherine. 

"The police haven't found him yet but they say they're looking." She sighs. "Will you let me know if you hear from him?"

"Of course, Lila."

Grissom hangs up the phone. "Has anyone tried paging him?"

"Would he have his pager with him?" Sara asks, using her cell phone to page the tech's number.

"It's worth a try. Lila's filed a missing person's report. He hasn't been home in a few days. She's worried," Grissom explains.

"She probably has good reason to be worried. Warrick said the kid was one step away from a breakdown the other day," Nick sighs.

"He was still very cool, though. He didn't let anything show. Even when he was telling us about his sister, he was totally disconnected. It was like he was you, Grissom," Sara remarks. Her phone rings in her hand.

"Sara," She answers.

"Sara, it's Greg. Did you page me?" 

Sara can barely hear Greg over the loud rock music in the background. "Yeah. Where the hell are you, Greg?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Greg replies, yelling over the noise.

"Try me."

"I'm in Seattle helping out an old friend of mine…I'll be back for Monday's shift, though, it's just a short…thing…" Greg says, breaking up.

"Greg? Have you talked to Lila?"

"Not recently. I wanted to give her some space…"

"She filed a missing person's report, Greg. What are you doing up there?" Sara asks, concerned.

"I'm getting this out of my system. Don't worry, Sara. I'll call Lila and calm her down and I'll see you guys on Monday, okay?"

"Greg. Where are you so I can call you when it's quieter?" Sara asks.

There is a long silence on Greg's end of the phone. "Here's the number to the Sheraton hotel in Seattle. Ask for the presidential suite. I'm staying with some friends there." Greg gives her a number and tells her to call during the midday.

"Where is he?" Catherine asks.

"Seattle. I have to call him back later, wherever he was calling from was loud as hell. He sounded okay," Sara shrugs. 

"'Allo?"

"Lila."

"Greg, my god, where are you, are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Lila. I'm sorry I bounced like that, it was inconsiderate of me to leave without talking to you, but…I was in a weird place. I needed to be alone so I could pull myself together and I didn't really worry about what you were thinking…"

"Greg. Slow down," Lila says, smiling at his familiar rambling. "You sound better."

"I think I'm okay, baby. Are you going to be there when I get home?" Greg asks, hesitating. 

"When? When are you coming back to me?"

"I…I kind of have to stay here tonight but I'll leave as soon as I can. Deal?"

"I don't know. What are you doing in Seattle, Greg?" She asks, quietly.

Greg hesitates. "You're going to be mad. I know you're going to be mad."

"What, Greg? Just tell me."

"I had to handle my family's arrangements. There was no one else to take care of it. I ran into a few old friends and they…they helped me…kind of…pick up the pieces."

"You…you planned the funerals and arrangements…all by yourself?"

"Lila. I had to do it. It's my responsibility," Greg replies, quietly.

"But…Greg, I'm here for you, why won't you let me be here for you? Do I mean that little to you?" Lila questions, upset.

"Lila, you're taking this all wrong. My family…it was messy. There's a lot of stuff that I don't talk about, not because I don't trust you but because…I don't like to talk about it. I didn't want to have to deal with rehashing all that shit when I was trying to put my family in the ground. It was hard by myself, but at least I didn't have to talk about it…" Greg says.

"Greg, we're together, aren't we? You're more than my lover, I live with you, I love you…but you don't trust me at all. I could have helped you, I wouldn't have asked questions, and I would have done whatever you needed me to do…"Lila starts.

"I know, Lila. I'm just not used to having…I'm not used to having anyone to lean on. I don't know…damn, Lila. I love you and I hope…"

"I don't know if I should stay, Greg. I love you so much it hurts…but these last few days, I…listen, baby. You've always been there for me, you took care of me when I was sick, you listened to me when I was all messed up in the head…but you haven't let me into your life…"

"Please, Lila, don't do this to me right now. I need you…"

"No, you don't. What is it they say, no man is an island? You're…you don't need me, Greg. You won't let me help you, you won't let me into your life at all…"

"Lila, you live with me! I need you! My family has never been an issue for us, they aren't a part of my life…as soon as I get back everything will be back to normal!"

"Not for me. Not after this. You get shot, you could have died! You started drinking again, Greg…"

"I stopped! It was for one day, Lila…"

"Greg. Stop."

"I can't believe you're going to break up with me over the phone. Over something like this. God, Lila, I love you…"

"Just stop, Greg. Just let it go." Lila starts to hang up.

"Can we talk about this?"

"You haven't called me in three days, Greg. No email, no phone call, nothing to let me know whether you're alive or dead. I have to let you go. I need to be with someone that cares about how I feel. I need someone that's a whole person," Lila says.

"Whoa. That's…that's harsh…okay, Lila. That's it then."

Lila regrets her words. "Greg…"

"No. It's cool. I get it. Bye, Lila." He hangs up


	4. 4

*****

****

"...I can't get no release

I'm shell shocked from some heavy blows  
A stranger to the people I know  
Who used to say, "He never had a down day"  
Now I'm holding on to can't-let-goes  
And silence brings no peace…"

--Third Eye Blind

Greg drops his bag inside the door of his apartment. He glances around and realizes that Lila has cleared out. He doesn't find a note where she usually leaves one. She's simply gone. He misses her, but he's used to losing people he loves so he refuses to mourn her departure. At least she survived. She's not dead, she simply is moving on. She deserves it.

He collapses on the sofa, picking up the cordless phone and checking his messages. Full mailbox. Lila never could figure out how to retrieve the messages, she barely comprehended caller i.d. She just wasn't technologically compatible. He shakes off the thoughts of Lila.

Greg's visit to Seattle was both cathartic and stressful. He put his parents, brother and sister in law, to rest in the family cemetery. The service was dramatic, lots of family friends and distant relatives showed up to offer their condolences. Greg didn't release any details as to how they died and dodged all questions about his disappearance years before and his reappearance now. He was stressed out when the funerals were over. He had lied to Lila. He was drinking again. He returned to his hotel to find that some of his old friends had tracked him down. When Greg was younger, he was part of a grunge band that hit the big time after he left. They were in town doing a show and saw the obituaries in the paper for Greg's family and used their connections to track him down. Greg spent the rest of his time while in Seattle with the band, playing as a guest with them at their concert and partying. 

"Greg, why don't you quit your job and come play with us?" Harris had asked him the night before. 

"You have a drummer, Harry," Greg had replied, not letting himself consider it.

"Yeah, but Jimmy's leaving us after this tour. He's got himself a wife and a kid now. He wants to take a year or so off, but we're hot now and our managers want us to keep putting out new stuff so we don't lose our edge. So what do you say? Those cops can't really need you that much…" Harris had replied.

Greg hadn't given Harris an answer. Now, back in Vegas, he wonders about Harris' offer. Travelling the country with some of his oldest friends, playing great music for millions of fans, seeing the world for himself…the thought is almost too good to be true. He shakes it off. He has to focus. He has to get ready for work. The lab. The concerned, pitying looks. 

The lab had always been a place of peace for him. Sure, he handled delicate evidence in brutal and dramatic murder cases, but the routine of the lab testing that he does has always calmed him. He could forget about everything except the humming of the machinery and the pulsing music from the stereo. Lately, after the explosion, the lab is no longer comforting. He doesn't fear it, but he feels out of place. He doesn't belong there anymore.

Greg stands up and goes to get a shower. He has a responsibility to go to work and do his best. He hasn't drank in 24 hours but at least now with Lila gone, he has something to look forward to when he gets home. 

*****

"…The city is dying   
(at least to me)   
The city is dead now…"

--Third Eye Blind

"Greg? You're back! Finally, someone with some common sense in the lab!" Sara sighs, obviously frustrated with the temp that is cowering in front of her.

"I don't know about common sense, but I am back in the lab," He smiles. She embraces him. 

"You feeling better?" She asks, releasing him as the lab tech makes a quick exit.

"Yeah. I dropped the sling a couple of days ago and now I'm just being really careful. No heavy lifting or anything," Greg replies. 

Sara nods, but gives him a curious look.

"How's Lila?" She asks.

"Not a real good subject today. I'm sure she's fine."

"You want to talk about it?" Sara offers.

"Not at all, actually. I'm just letting it go," Greg replies. "She's gone and that's what she wants. I'll get over it."

Sara frowns at him, concerned.

Greg grins. "Why, you want to make a play for me?"

She shoves him, playfully. "Stop it."

"So what do you have for me?" Greg asks, motioning to the samples in front of her.

Sara explains the tests she needs on the evidence she has and then leaves to go see Grissom. Greg gets to work, putting on a c.d. at a tolerable volume for the other workers. He gets a few minutes of peace without deep thought as he starts the machines for the testing. 

"Greg."

Grissom's voice makes him jump, startling him.

"Hey, Gris. What's up?"

"Welcome back. Everything okay?"

"So far. You got specimens for me?" Greg asks.

"No, it's a slow night. When you get a minute, come see me in my office," Grissom says, leaving with a slight smile. 

"That sounds like trouble," Warrick says, entering with Nick.

"Probably. Do you guys have specimens for me?" Greg asks.

"Nope. Just wanted to see if the rumors were true. You're back?"

"I'm standing here with my lab coat on aren't I? I'm definitely not doing it for the fashion statement," Greg replies.

"It's good to see you, kid. Everything okay?" Nick asks.

"Everything is falling back into place. Don't look so down, guys, its not like I'm terminally ill or anything," Greg smiles, trying to wipe the concerned look off their faces. 

"I don't know about that. Where've you been?" Warrick asks.

"Seattle," Greg replies, quietly.

"What's in Seattle?" Nick asks quickly, trying to keep Greg talking.

"My family's from Seattle. I had to go take care of some things," Greg answers, honestly.

Warrick and Nick glance at each other. "Greg, you mean…"

"Funerals. Memorial services. Settling the estates and putting the houses up for sale to pay for the expenses. Family stuff," Greg answers, turning away to check on Sara's testing. 

"Whoa. There was no one else that could take care of that for you?" Warrick questions.

"Nope. It needed to be done. Now it is. I ran into some old friends when I was there, they took pretty good care of me," Greg says.

"Sara said you were partying pretty hard when she talked to you," Warrick says, trying to break the growing tension.

"Ever heard of Green Vortex?" Greg asks, relaxing slightly as he sits down on a stool.

"That's that metal band, right? They've got some pretty deep stuff out there," Nick acknowledges.

"I used to play with them before everyone knew their name. They're pretty hard core. They were my family in all the ways that mattered back then. They always had my back," Greg replies.

"Sounds like good friends," Nick replies.

"They were. They are," Greg says quietly.

"They invite you to join the band or something?" Warrick asks, joking.

Greg's face closes up and Warrick realizes that he must have been close to the truth.

"Really? Wow, Greg…wow…" Nick gasps. "But…"

"Look. Can we forget all this? I have some work to do," Greg says, suddenly as Sara's results start to beep.

"Sure, Greggo. You want to meet for coffee later?" Nick asks.

"We'll see," Greg replies, trying to focus on his task and shake off the tension building in his muscles.

Warrick and Nick leave after a few moments and Greg is alone. 

His hands aren't shaking. He is in control. He will not let their pity or their concern penetrate his defenses. Greg has control. When he turns around, Catherine is standing in the doorway, watching him, silently.

"Catherine? You need help with something?" Greg asks, keeping his voice even.

She frowns at him, closing the door behind her. "Yeah, actually I do."

"What's up?" Greg asks, curious.

"Why don't you tell me?" Catherine replies.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I've heard from Sara that you and Lila have broken up. And I hear from Nick and Warrick that…"

"I know what I told them," Greg responds.

"Okay, then. Talk to me now," Catherine says, sitting down.

"It seems like you know everything already," Greg replies, sitting down across from her as he gathers Sara's papers.

"Greg. Do you plan on talking to anybody about what happened?"

"It's done now. All the loose ends are tied up. I'm attempting to pick my life up where I left it and keep on going," Greg replies, meeting her gaze with eyes of stone.

"I see through you, Greg. Your hands aren't shaking. You aren't giving anything away, are you?" Catherine replies, evenly. 

"That's my way," Greg replies. "I can take care of myself, Cath. I've been doing it a long time. I appreciate your concern, though. It's nice."

"Okay. I can see I'm not getting through to you…" Catherine says, frustrated.

"No, Cath. I mean it. I know you care. I'm sorry that I can't break down and sob in your arms. That's not me," Greg says, quietly. 

Catherine nods slowly. "Can I ask you something?"

"I'll try and give you an honest answer," Greg replies.

"Are you drinking?"

"Catherine. Don't ask me that," Greg responds, turning away to grab more papers that are printing off.

"Greg. Don't make me ask you again."

"Yes. I am. Not tonight. I knew I had to work so I didn't. But when I get home, I can't promise that I won't have a nightcap to make the sleep come," Greg replies, honestly, meeting her eyes.

"So you think it's under control?"

"For the moment," Greg answers. "I've been down that road, Cath. I know where it ends. I haven't forgotten the blackouts and the accidents. Waking up, hungover in a different state. I've done it all. I don't plan on doing it again."

Catherine nods. "You can't plan out something like that."

"I'm okay, Catherine. Really," Greg says, quietly. 

"But you're still thinking about leaving us?" Catherine questions.

"I…I've had an offer for something different," Greg replies.

"You're good at what you do. The best, Greg. You show promise and you shouldn't give up…" Catherine begins.

"Look, Catherine. I don't give up. Ever. But people change. Goals change. I know I'm good at my job, but its possible that this job isn't good for me anymore," Greg says, suddenly. "I'm just playing it by ear right now."

"Okay. I guess I've bothered you enough, Greggo…"

"No bother. Can you take these to Sara? I'm supposed to chat with Grissom when I get a minute," Greg replies, handing her a stack of papers.

"Good luck," Catherine smiles, accepting the papers.

Greg walks with her a few steps before pausing outside of Grissom's office. He starts to knock but Gris' voice invites him in before he can contact the door with his fist. 

"Close the door, Greg," Grissom says as Greg enters. 

"Sure," Greg says, obeying. He sits down, anxiously in a chair across from Grissom but quickly replaces his anxiety with calm. "Am I in trouble?"

"Are you?"

"I hope not. I've had enough trouble lately. What's up with the conference?" Greg replies.

"It seems as if I owe you an apology. You've always been an asset to our team here and we've taken you for granted," Grissom says, quietly.

"Whoa, just stop right there, Gris. I don't know what the guys told you but…" Greg starts.

"The guys haven't told me anything. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since the shooting. Is there something I should know or can I continue?" Grissom asks, unruffled by Greg's outburst.

"Go ahead, then," Greg replies. 

"Okay. As I was saying, we've taken you for granted. You always seem to be here when we need you, taking double shifts and filling in when the other techs fall short. I glanced over your file and you've never taken time off except for the explosion and the shooting," Gris puts down his file and looks at Greg, seriously. "You are a part of our team regardless of how we treat you. It took you being gone for us, or more importantly me, to realize it. I…I should have known about your family. I should have known about your history…"

Greg's face has turned to stone. 

"Greg?"

"I'm listening," He answers, coldly.

"I'm not good at this. But if you need to talk or if there's anything that I can do…"

"Okay, Gris. We done?" Greg asks, standing up.

Grissom is surprised by the younger man's reaction. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Okay. I'm going to check back and see if there's any evidence needing my attention," Greg says, walking from the room.

"Well, I guess that went well," Grissom remarks to himself.


	5. 5

***** 

****

"…And there's postcards written   
I know I'll never send   
The moment is gone and won't come again   
I ride with souls who find no peace   
Still I look to you to find release…"

-Third Eye Blind   


Greg manages to avoid everyone for the rest of his shift, catching up on paperwork and recalibrating all the lab equipment during the strange lulls. He winces at the pain in his shoulder as he drops his backpack on the asphalt so he can unlock his car's door.

"Greg. Going home?"

"That's usually what one does when leaving work," Greg answers Sara who approaches with Warrick.

"Any plans?" Warrick questions.

"Sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. I'll catch you guys tomorrow, alright?" Greg tosses his backpack into the car and steps inside. He waits until they walk away before he lights a forbidden cigarette, another of his reawakened habits.

Greg starts his car as he inhales the smoke, desperate to fill the emptiness inside with whatever he can stand. He gave up smoking, drinking and drugs cold turkey years before. He had to prove to himself that he could survive without the vices. He had to prove to himself that he could survive without anything. He did. He survived it all. Greg puts the car in reverse, having to think out everything methodically and not letting himself switch on to automatic mode. Not yet. He's been on automatic all night, walking around, joking and existing while his mind was somewhere else. He has to turn off the autopilot now. He has to face himself.

He is shaking by the time he parks his car outside his apartment. He gathers his things, locks the door and walks into his house. He drops his bag and goes to the kitchen. He needs coffee. Coffee and scotch. Coffee and whiskey. Coffee and beer. He fills the coffeemaker with water and flips it on.

"Greg."

Lila's voice startles him. He doesn't react immediately. He freezes. 

"Greg?"

"I heard you. Hey, Lila," Greg breathes, turning around and facing her. She is standing in the edge of the kitchen, looking beautiful and sad. 

"I…I just wanted to see you," She whispers, clearly uncomfortably.

"One last time, right?" Greg replies, keeping his voice free of anger. 

"Greg…"

He winces involuntarily. The way she says his name with her accent…

"Greg?"

"I'm back, Lila. I'm right here. In the flesh. Do you want to talk to me or did you just need to see me?" Greg asks, his words tumbling out as his tenuous control slips.

Lila steps toward him, quickly, sensing something in his voice. "Greg. Are you alright?"

"I…I don't know if its any of your business anymore…" He says, taking a step back as she reaches out for him. 

She gasps. "It shouldn't be this way. Not between us. We should be better than this."

"Somewhere, Lila…I messed this all up. Now we're both in pain and there's no way back," Greg says, quietly. His shaking intensifies.

"Greg. Sit down." Lila disregards his shudder as she touches him and pushes him into a chair. 

"Lila. Maybe you should go."

"Maybe I should stop listening to you and start paying attention to you," Lila replies. "You're shaking. You just got back from work where I'm sure your coworkers have been interrogating you senseless. You come home to an empty house to find your devastatingly sexy ex-girlfriend waiting for you," Lila sighs, trying to get him to smile.

Greg looks up at her. 

"I'm trying to make it up to you, Greg. We can't go back, but we can start over. Maybe you don't need a girlfriend right now. Maybe you need a friend."

"But, Lila, you're a girl. You can't be my friend and not be my girlfriend," He teases, relaxing slightly. His fingertips find her hand. He laces his fingers with hers. "Will you stay with me? Just a little while?" He whispers.

"Oui."

"We don't have to talk. Just…just sit with me," Greg whispers. She pulls up a chair beside him and sits down, taking his hands and holding them tightly.

"I'm so sorry, baby…I know you're hurting…I just don't know what to do when you won't let me in…" Lila runs a hand down his face. 

"I won't let you in because its…I can't Lila…I…" Greg pulls away from her. "Maybe you should go."

"No, Greg, I'm not going to go…" Her face is tight with confusion. "I want…I want you to be okay."

"I am okay," Greg says slowly. He stands up and pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the counter. "Lila, I need you. When…when I realized how much I'd fucked up with you…I ache when I don't see you…but I never wanted to see the look in your eyes that I see right now. Pity. Concern. You're worried about me, you feel sorry for me."

"I love you, Greg," Lila protests.

"Whatever. I'm strong, Lila. I don't want your pity. I don't need your concern."

Lila sniffles. "Whatever? Okay. Whatever."

"Fuck, I don't know what I'm talking about…" He sighs, running his hands through his hair despite the gel.

"Greg."

He turns away. "I'm sorry. I can't do this right now…"

"Too many walls down? Afraid you might tell someone the truth?" Lila replies, suddenly. "I'm just here to listen. I don't really know you…"

"You do know me, Lila."

"No. I know what you want me to know." She stands up and goes to him. "Look at me, Greg."

He turns his body slightly to meet her gaze. 

"I don't care about your past. The only reason I care is because it's eating you up inside…" Lila starts.

"That's why I'm not a whole person?" Greg asks, quietly.

"I didn't mean it the way you're taking it," Lila replies.

"How did you mean it?"

"You only give yourself out in pieces. You let me have a piece and you give the people at your job a piece but nobody gets the whole package…" Lila replies. "If I'm going to be with you then I need all of you. I need the complete package…"

"Okay, Lila."

"What?" She asks, confused.

Greg sighs. "I'm tired. I'm sick of drama. I need some peace so I say okay. Whatever."

Lila is speechless. 

"I'm going to bed."


End file.
